


Parting Words

by scarecrowstories



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Break Up, F/M, Post-Break Up, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-21 00:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9523709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarecrowstories/pseuds/scarecrowstories
Summary: NOTE: Contains major spoilers for Trespasser!When Lavellan invites Solas to come back to her clan with her after everything, he knows that it's time to break things off before it's too late. Neither of them handle the break-up well. Several years later during the Exalted Council, Lavellan learns the truth. This fic is basically the two of them being horrendously upset back and forth about the reality of their relationship.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is my very first Solas/Lavellan fic, featuring my mage lady Merribelle Lavellan. if you're interested, I can also be found at scarecrowstories.tumblr.com. thank you so much for reading!

Merribelle Lavellan closed her eyes and listened to her lover breathe, ear pressed against his chest and arm over his waist. It wasn't every night that he agreed to sleep in her quarters, and it was something to be cherished. When she held him like this, everything felt right with the world. She could forget for a moment that she was the Inquisitor, that the world could end if she wasn't able to stop it. He made her feel like she was just another young woman in love.

"Solas?" she whispered, uncertain if he'd already fallen asleep. "Are you still awake?"

He peeked an eye open to look at her, a soft smile coming to his lips; to her, there was nothing more beautiful. "I am," he quietly replied, moving his hand up her back until he was hugging her shoulders. "Is everything all right?"

She sighed in contentment as she cuddled closer, entwining their legs. "Yes, I just…" she trailed off, suddenly nervous. Rather than push her to continue, Solas waited and began to pet her back. Merribelle took several long breaths to prepare herself; it was a natural question to ask in a relationship when things were getting serious, so why was she scared? She'd been wanting to ask him about it for some time, and besides, she had no reason to suspect he would reject her. 

The words tumbled out in a rush. "You know I love you. And when all this is done, when there's finally a moment's peace, I'm going back to my clan. Come with me?" There was a long silence; Solas stopped petting her back. She heard his heartbeat quicken - in excitement? She hoped so. "Solas?"

"Vhenan…" 

Uh oh, she thought, stomach sinking at his pained tone. "What's wrong?" Shifting so that she could look up at him, she was only more confused by what she saw there. Why did he look so sad? And so scared? It was unlike him, and it worried her.

Without warning, his other arm moved to embrace her and he pulled her tight against his chest, pressing his face into her hair. "Nothing is wrong. Little would make me happier, in fact, but I--" he shook his head, refusing to continue.

"But what?" Had she made a mistake? He was trembling slightly; what was he afraid of? "Solas, if you're worried that they won't accept you, you don't need to be. They wouldn't do anything to hurt you or drive you away. You'd be welcomed, and not just because I'm the keeper's first. We could be happy together, and you could continue to travel and see new places around the Free Marches. Doesn't that sound lovely?"

He nodded silently, face still buried in her bright red curls. His embrace tightened. "It sounds wonderful," he murmured.

"Then why do you sound so sad?" she asked, laying feather-light kisses on his collarbone in the hopes that she could calm his unseen fears. "I want to stay with you even after we defeat Corypheus. Don't you?"

A few more moments of silence passed before he pulled back and leaned down to kiss her. He sighed against her lips, all remaining traces of tension between them melting away. "Of course I do, vhenan," he whispered as he let his forehead rest against hers.

Her eyes searched his face for understanding, her gut telling her that the softness of his smile and the shine in his eyes masked something deeper. But her heart, on the other hand, so desperately wanted to believe that this was the whole truth; and so she did. "Then we will! We can be proper family and be happy, and we won't have to worry about the fate of the world hanging over our heads."

Kissing her once more, Solas resumed stroking her back. When he pulled away that same inexplicable sorrow seemed to linger just below the surface of his smile. "I look forward to it. I've never much enjoyed the company of Dalish clans, but perhaps the one responsible for raising you will be better." Solas shifted to lay on his side so that they were facing one another. "Merry," he sighed, breathing her name like a prayer. Again, he shook his head and refused to complete his thought.

This time, however, Merribelle interpreted it positively. After all, this was practically a marriage proposal! It made sense that he would be overwhelmed with emotion. In hindsight, she was surprised she'd been able to gather the courage to ask. "Solas," she returned, eyes sparkling with the beginnings of happy tears.

"Don't cry," he said, resting a hand on her cheek. "We have much to accomplish before then. It's nice to dream about what could come next, but let us not get ahead of ourselves." She knew that his tone was meant to reassure her, but his words betrayed both of their fears that either may not come out of the whole ordeal alive.

She nodded and laid her hand on top of his, gently petting with her thumb. "Is it okay that I consider you family already? I know we haven't talked a lot about the future, but I feel like we've gotten serious enough to start. You're right though; we have so much to do, and we might not both make it out alive, but if we do I want to be together. For good." This time she took the initiative to kiss him, deepening the kiss with a small groan.  
Solas slipped a hand up the back of her shirt to caress bare skin, reveling in the warmth that settled in his chest as he felt her smile into the kiss. "I would love to," he whispered, his other hand moving to stroke her hair.

Hearing him confirm what she had hoped so strongly in her heart made joy bubble up in her chest, escaping her mouth in the form of giddy laughter. "Imagine it, Solas: us - family! I mentioned you in the last letter I sent to my friends back home, and they're so eager to meet you! Oh, I can't wait." Settling against his chest once more, she released a happy sigh. "I love you. Sleep well."

"You as well, vhenan." 

Merry drifted off to sleep happier than she'd been since before the Conclave. She knew that her good cheer wouldn't last; being the Inquisitor required her to perform many unfamiliar and unpleasant duties, all of which could ruin her day at a moment's notice. More than anything else she wanted to get this whole saving-the-world-thing over with so she could return to her clan, where she belonged. 

As she was falling asleep she imagined what it would be like to introduce him to everyone, tell the story of how they met and their adventures together. To introduce him to her family and say, "He's one of us now!" They would adore him, she just knew it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Once he was sure that Merry was asleep, Solas allowed himself to sigh deeply. His heart ached with the guilt of having to lie to her about the one thing he wished could be true above all else. It wasn't her fault that she didn't know the truth; he wanted to tell her everything even if it drove them apart. She didn't deserve to be deceived, much less about something so important. 

Part of him felt that she would understand and accept him all the same, because that was just the way she was. But another part of him knew that that was precisely the problem: much like she didn't deserve to be deceived, Solas didn't believe that he deserved to be accepted by her. Everything that the elves had lost was because of him. The only way to atone was to make the world as it once was. While it sounded like a noble cause, in practicality he knew that it was unforgivable to those who did not understand what was lost.

Except, perhaps, for her, if she allowed her love for him to cloud her better judgment, as he feared she might. He couldn't bear the thought that she could look at him with those bright green eyes shimmering in sadness as she told him that it was okay, that he'd done what he thought was best at the time. He didn't want to hear that he should forgive himself and try to move on instead. She would probably grab his hand and tell him--

But no. He stopped that train of thought before he fantasized about it for too long; it would only break his resolve to stay the course that he'd poured so much effort into. If he tried to tell her everything, he worried that her inevitably kind words in response would convince him to abandon his cause.   
He frowned, stomach sinking like a stone. He hadn't lied when he told her that he wanted to return to her clan with her after all this was done. The thought of meeting her friends and family was delightful, if a little intimidating. They cherished her as he did, and so would likely be somewhat suspicious of him at first lest he not have her best interests in mind. He knew that family was often that way.

Her request was more or less a proposal of marriage; she clearly knew as much, based on the light blush that accompanied the excited tremor in her voice. That she already considered him family only served to break his heart further. How could he leave her now? How could he have allowed himself to get so close to someone when he knew that he would have to leave in the end? It was unfair to both of them, most of all to her. He'd only wanted to be happy, even if just for a short while.

Rubbing small circles on her lower back, he leaned in to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. She had become so important to him that the thought of losing her physically pained him. He had to leave her soon, before it became even more difficult than it already would be. Thoroughly upset, Solas held her close and cherished every sensation: her warmth, her scent, the way the moonlight illuminated her many freckles. 

Just a little bit longer, he begged to nobody, Not yet, please.

But he knew that it was time. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The entire journey back to Skyhold was awkward silence and palpable tension, occasionally punctuated by short remarks. Neither knew how to behave now that Solas had broken up with her. She could hear the catch in his voice when he had to stop himself from calling her vhenan, and he noticed how adamantly she avoided his gaze.

She had dozens of questions, but the way he walked away from her, leaving her alone at the waterfall to mourn what could have been, had chased away her nerve. Sure, she wanted to demand answers, but what good would it do? He made it clear that it was not a matter open to discussion. Merry wished she understood what drove him away. Were it not for the heart-breaking way he kept apologizing, insisting not that he didn't want to be with her but that he couldn't, she would have blamed herself.

It occurs to me I don't know much about you, Solas, she had once said. She had asked him questions, and he had given her answers. Yet still, she realized, she knew next to nothing about his life. He was always reluctant to reveal personal details, thought she didn't know why. Perhaps the answer lied more in what he didn't say than in what he did, she considered. It wouldn't accomplish anything to press him now about what brought about his decision, but she hoped that they could one day try again. She was willing to, after all; but was he?

If the journey back to Skyhold had been difficult, actually arriving back was almost physically painful. She had told Dorian and Sera about going to Crestwood alone with Solas. They were going to attend to some business and then spend some time together, she had said. Sera had rolled her eyes and teased her about how boring it would be; Dorian had playfully agreed. Neither were particularly fond of Solas, but her friends were at least happy for her. What would she tell them? And what would they think of her now-missing vallaslin?

"Good night," she said as they parted ways, nails digging into her palms as she forced herself not to look over her shoulder at him. Better to not see his expression. She didn't even listen for his reply before turning to walk towards the tavern. Merry didn't want to burden her friends, but a mug of ale would make just as fine a company to her sorrows.

The drink tasted awful, but she gulped down a third of it in one go. Some of the other patrons were staring at her; she ignored them. She knew that they recognized her, and wondered bitterly if the stares were because they'd noticed her bare face.

"Everything okay, boss?" she heard from behind her, immediately recognizing the Iron Bull's voice. When she shook her head, he sat down beside her. 

"Do I need to hit someone?" She shook her head again, still staring into her drink. After a few moments, Bull said, "So, I noticed when you walked in that, uh, your face? Those marks are gone. It's not a bad look." 

She took another large gulp of ale, setting the mug down harder than necessary. "I appreciate what you're trying to do for me, Bull, but I'm sorry. I just want to drink. I'm sure drunk-Merry will tell you all about it if you're curious."

At that he couldn't help but smile. "No problem, boss. Would you feel better making this more of a party? I can go find Sera and Dorian," he offered.

"Thanks, but I don't think I'd like what either of them have to say about this," Merry admitted. They knew how smitten she was, and both had expressed concern that Solas was not a good fit for her. And while they would surely have enough tact sober not to say "I told you so," she had a feeling that once inebriated, it could turn into an argument.

Bull nodded. "I'll go grab you another drink."

xxxxxxxxxx

Her shoulders had been tense, fists clenched, as she walked away from him, her stiff posture driving home the consequence of his mistake with every stomp of her feet. She was heading in the direction of the tavern, he noted sadly, another wave of guilt washing over him at the thought that he'd driven her to drink.

Lost in thought, he wandered towards the steps leading to the main hall. He didn't notice that Varric was still awake, seated at his usual table by the fireplace with a stack of papers in front of him.

"Why so blue, Chuckles? Lover's spat?" Varric said as he was walking by.

Solas had to stop himself from responding angrily. Instead, he let his unfocused gaze drift past Varric to the dying flames. "There is nothing between us," he replied, tone short.

Varric raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm tempted to call bullshit, seeing as we all know you two are involved, but something tells me there's more to it." He gestured to the other chair. "Wanna talk about it?"

With a rough sigh, Solas shook his head but sat down nonetheless. "No. We simply…" he trailed off.

"Uh-huh," Varric said, shifting his stack of paper so that he could rest his elbows on the table. "Look, I won't make you talk about anything personal if you don't want to, but that's the face of a heartbroken man if I've ever seen one. You don't have to isolate yourself all the time, you know - you can talk to me. We're all in this mess together."

Absently nodding, Solas unclenched his jaw. "Thank you. It's difficult to say when the wound is so fresh. I broke off our relationship. That's all there is to say on the matter."

"What? Why?"

"I thought you said you wouldn't make me talk about anything personal," Solas spat, pushing the chair back.

Varric made a disapproving sound. "Wait, you're right, I'm sorry. I just worry about her. Look at all the shit she's dealing with! Anyone with eyes could see how you two lit up around each other. So for you to call it off? Something big must have happened." There were a few tense moments of silence as Solas challenged his gaze, as if daring him to ask what. When Varric resigned himself to not getting the elf to open up, he threw his hands up in defeat. "All right, I understand. None of my business. But if you decide you wanna unload your troubles on someone, you know where to find me."

After he pushed the chair in, Solas walked into the rotunda to the couch he often slept on and fell onto it. With his legs hanging over the side, he threw an arm over his face to hide his tears. He kept his crying as silent as possible; it took all of his effort to appear as though he were merely sleeping. He didn't want others to see him and ask what was wrong; it wasn't comfort he wanted. It was her - just her.

xxxxxxxxxxx

After Merry finished her third mug, Bull ordered a bottle and followed her out of the tavern. By then it was late, and the entry hall was deserted. She was shushing him comically loudly as she led him to her quarters, but as soon as she sat on her couch she started crying, burying her face in her arms as she draped her upper body over the side.

"Shit," Bull said, awkwardly sitting on the floor nearby and passing her the bottle.

"He left me, Bull!" she cried, lifting her head only to take a swig before pressing her face back into the crook of her arm. "We were fine and I still love him and we were gonna be a family," she slurred between sobs.

"Had a feeling it was about him," he said after a few moments. "You two seemed so happy last I saw you. You sure I don't need to hit him?"

She shook her head, drinking more and nearly dropping the bottle as she choked; luckily Bull caught it before it left her hands. He gingerly patted her back to try to help the cough, stopping when she continued to shake her head. When she was done coughing, her face was redder than before, eyes still streaming tears and nose running. She looked like as much of a mess as she felt.

"Look, boss, I'm no good at this," he started.

"Don't worry, I don't need advice, I just need to complain," she interrupted, hiccupping. Her bottom lip trembled with the effort of holding back more drunken sobbing. "I dunno what happened. Everything was fine and then it wasn't, and he took my vallaslin and said we couldn't be together anymore." 

She chugged from the bottle for several seconds, nearly sputtering it out again. "And I let him, I fucking let him take it even though it meant so much to me! But he meant - means - more than that, Bull, and I dunno what happened."

Bull raised an eyebrow. "You're gonna have to back up a bit. He took your vallaslin? How does someone take tattoos?"

Merry brought a hand to her face, fingers clumsily tracing where the familiar lines used to be. "I don't know, some kinda magic? He told me what they really were and I panicked, and it was stupid of me. And then he left me and I'm gonna have to go home alone and explain this to my family!" She gestured to her whole face and dissolved into sobs again for several minutes while Bull silently kept her company. 

Somewhere through all the alcohol Merry was aware that half of what she was saying wouldn't make sense to him without context, but she was too drunk to care. He sat with her until she calmed down and eventually fell asleep on the couch. When she woke up hungover the next morning she was in bed, still wearing her dirty traveling clothes. She vaguely remembered Bull carrying her there, pulling her mud-caked boots off while she weakly protested.

Groaning loudly, she pulled the pillow over her head to shield out the light and her heart broke all over again to discover it still smelled faintly of Solas.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Leliana's agents had found no trace of him. One moment he'd been standing there, gazing forlornly at the shattered orb, and the next he'd been gone. His last words chilled her to the bone as she repeated them over and over in her head. "What we had was real." It was practically all she could hear as she drifted through the hall, mingling with her friends and their guests. 

She half-heartedly engaged in conversation, too thoroughly exhausted to put much effort in. Eventually she returned to her quarters, bidding her companions good night. As she lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, she was forced to admit to herself that not only were things completely over between them, but she would also not be able to return to the comfort of her clan anytime soon.

It soon became obvious she wouldn't be able to sleep. After several minutes of pacing, it was apparent that even basic relaxation would not happen. She found herself sitting at her desk, idly sifting through papers and tapping her feet anxiously. Eventually she retrieved a blank page and wrote a letter to be sent back home; they always stayed in the same place this time of year, so she knew getting it to them would be no issue.

How should she begin? Should she lead with the story of how they were at last victorious? Or should she get the bad news out of the way first? Which bad news? They would be upset that she wasn't going to return anytime soon, but she was on the fence as to whether or not it was even worth mentioning the temple of Mythal, the Well, or her vallaslin. It was all the sort of knowledge that begged to be shared, but it could all too easily become a burden. She decided they didn't need to know most of it just yet.

Dear all,  
I hope this letter finds you well. I regret to inform you that I will not be able to return for some time; there are many matters here which require my attention, and it would be remiss of me to abandon my duty now. So long as there is need for me here, I must remain. Should the keeper wish to officially appoint a new First, please let me know. I will understand.  
The good news is that we fixed the Breach. It wasn't easy, but I'm proud to have represented our people in this crisis. I'm sure to return with many exciting stories to share, but unfortunately for the time being, the best I can leave you with is this: deep in the Arbor Wilds we found an ancient temple to Mythal still standing, its ancient magic still functioning. We don't know how long it has been there, completely untouched, but being able to walk through its halls was an honor. It was the most beautiful place I have ever seen, and I am eager to tell you more when I return.  
These people are good people. Well, for the most part. I've made friends here who I never would have met otherwise, and despite the fact that the world was ending, I am grateful to have had these opportunities. I will come back to the clan with new knowledge and experiences that I would never have come upon any other way. I look forward to seeing you all again. May the Dread Wolf never catch your scent.  
Lots of love,  
Merry

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Staring down at the shattered orb in disbelief had felt like an eternity as the world seemed to stop around him. Merry's voice brought him back to reality; he realized it would likely be the last time she spoke to him as an ally.

He had to leave now, before it was too late. "No matter what comes, I want you to know that what we had was real." Turning away from her then hurt more than it had at Crestwood; he silently cursed himself for allowing himself to fall in love. There was no way that it could have ended well, and he'd known as much from the start. 

In the distance he heard someone call out to her, and the faint murmur of conversation. They would be celebrating soon, surely. It would take a while for someone to miss him. Well, he noted bitterly, anyone other than her. But by then he would be long gone, untraceable. There was still much to be done - it was pointless to dwell on his own hurt. He'd been selfish enough to allow the relationship in spite of knowing the consequences, but he wouldn't allow it to keep him from his goals.

He would make things right. He owed his people that much. The thought caused a sardonic smile to grace his lips. "His people." Not long ago she had asked him to be one of her own people, her clan, her family. 

Was there still a point in his mission if there were no longer any of "his people" left to notice if he failed? There had to be. Though creating the Veil had cost him everything, she had given so much back to him. And for what? So he could give it up in an attempt to get back all that he'd initially lost? No, this was exactly the sort of doubt that he refused to allow to seep into his heart. He promised himself that he would fix the world long before he'd met her. Surely the entire legacy of his people had to hold more worth than one young woman.

He wasn't sure if it did, but still he pressed on, denying that thought the power to take hold and jeopardize all that he'd worked for.

Forgive me, my love, he thought biting his lip in an attempt to stay grounded.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She sat on the cold ground staring at the eluvian for a long time, tears silently streaming down her face. Catching up with her friends at the Exalted Council had been fun, but did nothing to alleviate her fear of what was to come. Would they finally allow the Inquisition to disband? They'd done so much work restoring peace, and she was tired. She wanted to go back to her family and friends. Josephine fretted about the possible outcomes and Merry didn't have the heart to tell her how willingly she would release them all from duty.

They'd all had lives before the Conclave. They had jobs and families and homes; wasn't it about time to be getting back to those? It wasn't that Merry didn't enjoy being the Inquisitor. Being able to help others was spiritually fulfilling for her in a way she hadn't anticipated. But it was time to let history continue on without their say. Everything was fine now.

Until the qunari corpse turned up. It was too much to hope that it was going to be an isolated incident. She couldn't have guessed the extent of the damage until the viddasala announced that Solas had been an agent of Fen'Harel all along. The moment she heard it, Merry knew it to be true. No wonder he was so guarded. No wonder he'd felt obligated to leave.

With a sting she recalled his parting words years prior. She knew she should feel betrayed, but the panic she felt that she may not reach him before the viddasala drowned everything else out. There would be plenty of time for anger later, but first she had to make sure he stayed alive.  
She had suspected what the truth of the matter was when she saw the murals in the ruins, combined with Cole's cryptic comments. But she had refused to accept something so absurd until she passed through that final eluvian; then she knew. When she saw all the effortlessly killed qunari, she knew. He wasn't merely an agent. 

While he explained himself to her at last, she clung to every word. It all made sense. She was struggling to process the fact that she had a domestic relationship with and essentially proposed to the Dread Wolf, and that he had wanted to accept. More than betrayal she was overwhelmed with disbelief and sorrow, increasingly so as he revealed his plans.

The pain in her arm was so severe that she could barely feel his last kiss. The crackle of magic all but drowned out his parting words. She couldn't bring herself to move yet, the pain fading to numbness. She didn't know how long she sat there crying, but eventually her friends came looking for her. They hoisted her to her feet, all asking questions in quick succession; she didn't hear them.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"My love, I will never forget you." Solas was glad that he had been granted the privilege of seeing her one last time. Telling the truth was relieving, and her acceptance of it all confirmed his suspicions that he had been right to keep it from her. Crestwood felt like a lifetime ago, but had he revealed it all to her then, she would have succeeded in stopping him. 

He fell to his knees once he was through the eluvian. All of that pain she was in was his fault. It was because of him that she was torn from her family and forced to lead the Inquisition, made up of people who at any other time wouldn't have batted an eyelash at the slaughter of elves. But no matter how hard he tried he could not channel the grief into an anger that would fuel his determination.

What's done is done, he thought, staring at the floor. There is no going back now. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Her shock didn't wear off until she woke up in a bed in the Winter Palace. Bolting upright, she looked around frantically, moving to pull the covers off of herself only to discover that her arm was gone. Before panic could set in, Dorian's head poked around the corner of the entryway for a moment. She heard him shout something down the hall before he entered the room.

"Inquisitor! How are you feeling?"

"Dorian?"

"None other, my friend," he said, crossing the room to sit on the edge of her bed.

"Solas," she started, stopping when Sera and Cassandra walked in, others not far behind but unable to all fit in the small room. Merry watched them all stare at her in concern for a few moments before she took a deep breath, steeling herself to share the news. "Solas is Fen'Harel," she said barely above a whisper, eyes cast down. "He wants to tear down the Veil because it destroyed the world he knew. He wants to save his people, and he's convinced that killing us all is the only way."

Nobody said anything for a long time. Eventually, Merry couldn't stand the silence anymore. "I don't know how, but we have to stop him. There has to be another way to save the elves."

"Do they really need saving?" Dorian asked, raising his hands defensively when Merry glared. "I don't mean to say they aren't worth saving, merely that this is the way things are now, yes? Everyone is used to it because there's nobody left to remember what came before. Why should he decide for all of them that it would be better to restore their former glory when none but him know what that means?"

Merry sighed. She knew he was right, but it didn't stop her from wanting Solas to be happy. "I know," she finally said. "It sounds like it was truly marvelous, and I can't lie - I envy him for having spent so long in a world like that. But you're right: this is the world as we know it now. If he hadn't slept for so long after creating the Veil, he might understand. Think about it, though: you saw Vir Dirthara. He woke up from the world with that to, well, this." 

"What do we tell the Council?" Cassandra asked from the doorway, arms crossed. "All of this implicates the Inquisition. If we tell them, they learn how easily corruption slipped into our ranks. But if we don't, they'll find out. That would pose a huge risk."

"The truth. It's all we can do."

There was silence for a few moments before someone cleared their throat. "I think it's time we let the Inquisitor rest," Dorian announced. "In a few days when she's feeling better she can address the Council in person, but until then why don't we let her recover?" He was herding everyone except for Sera out of the room as he threw a smile at Merry over his shoulder. When everyone else had gone, he and Sera pulled chairs up to Merry's bedside.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," Sera said. "He's a right shit, always has been, but he was special to you or whatever. I mean, it takes a real arsehole to wanna sacrifice the whole world for something so stupid, yeah? Hope you find someone better, someone who deserves you."

Merry forced a weak smile; Sera always had difficulty verbally expressing herself, but it was clear what she meant. "Thank you. I know it sounds stupid, but I still love him. Even if he is an arsehole."

"Ha! See? Knew you'd admit it eventually! Can you believe some of the shit he'd say?" Sera was smirking, inviting her to complain with her.

"I know, right?" Merry grinned. "Some mornings he would drink tea even though every time all he did was talk about how disgusting it was. I'd tell him he should have something else, then, something he enjoyed, and he'd just answer with that frown of his!" She rolled her eyes; Sera chuckled. "I should've guessed there was something wrong when he was dodgy about certain personal questions."

Sera made a disgusted sound. "I'd really hoped he'd pull that stick out of his bum when you two got together, you know. Can't say I'm surprised he didn't."

"This certainly explains some of his oddities," Dorian commented, appearing to be lost in thought.

"What, the bum-stick?"

"No, his being Fen'Harel! I always thought he knew too much about magic for a self-studying hermit."

"I'd wondered about that too," Merry added. "I guess I wanted to trust him so badly that I was blind to a lot of things."

"Oh, please, love makes fools of us all." Dorian smiled, hoping to comfort her. "And if anyone can change his mind about this madness, it's you."

Merry smiled. "Thanks, I know neither of you were close to him, so it means a lot to me to have your support."

Sera playfully bumped her fist against Merry's shoulder. "Come on, he's a tit, but that doesn't mean you are. After all this shit you're more like family. Besides, maybe if you can pull his head out of his arse he won't be so weird."

"I thought it was a stick," Merry teased. It must have shaken Sera terribly for her to say such candid things. She and Dorian had been Merry's best friends from the start; to hear Sera say they were more like family meant the world.

"Whatever, lay back down, you. Sleep. We'll be back later with snacks!" With that, Sera and Dorian left; Merry was acutely aware of how quiet and empty the small room was.

Come what may, Merry knew she wouldn't have to face this alone. For a long time after Solas had left her it felt that way. But she wasn't ready to give up on him just yet. Despite it all, she still thought of him as family. Their final meeting, however brief, had only solidified that. She knew now that he still loved her, too. 

She didn't know who to pray to anymore, but as she laid back against the pillows and closed her eyes, she prayed to whoever would listen that she could find a way to change his mind. It seemed impossible, but so had fixing the Breach. The two things shared a common truth: she had to at least try, because she was the only one who could. She prayed it would be enough.


End file.
